


Snap!

by dametokillfor



Category: Avenged Sevenfold, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-04
Updated: 2009-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:44:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dametokillfor/pseuds/dametokillfor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>As the brown eyed man feels his legs hit the bed, he breaks the kiss. Remy smiles at him, a slow, calculating smile and Brian realizes he’s just relinquished his control.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have actually been an X-Men fan for fifteen years and Gambit has always been my favourite character, so this isn’t entirely due to the new movie. This Gambit is based off the _physical appearance_ of Taylor Kitsch from the movie but with some tweaks the movie forgot - such as the classic red on black eyes. I am really paranoid about getting this accent down, so I apologize if it’s a little shit. There is also no Avenged Sevenfold in this.

Brian was _pretty sure_ this was illegal. And not the kind of illegal that he generally enjoyed either. More the kind of illegal which would result in a sore ass and a night he’d rather forget. The kind of illegal he’d got himself involved in far too much these days. But he wasn’t one to drop a friend in the shit when they needed him and so he had - once plied with much alcohol - agreed to take one for the team.

He walks through the dark alleyway, hands buried deep in his pockets, not willing to admit how nervous he is, even to himself. He wishes he knew exactly what he’d got himself into. He’s heard rumours about this man. They say he has the eyes of the devil, blazing red orbs set in the deepest ebony. Other people say he has powers, the ability to bend others to his will, the ability to destroy something simply by touching it.

Brian’s not concerned about this, he couldn’t give a shit if the guy’s Satan incarnate. All he’s concerned about is the fact if this gets out, he’s likely to get thrown away again and the last thing he needs is another addition to his criminal record.

He peers down at the address scribbled down on his hand, before looking up to see he’s arrived at his destination without even realizing it.

Checking the alleyway is clear, he approaches the large door, his hand lifting to knock on it. Before his hand can fall, the door opens, revealing the silhouette of the man who owns him for this single night.

“Yes?” He asks, his voice low and smooth.

Brian nods, “Remy LeBeau?”

“Who’s askin’?”

“Uh, I’m Brian Haner. Matt Sanders sent me.” Brian explains, feeling a little unsure of himself.

The tall, slim man before him inclines his head, obviously taking him in. Does this guy even remember his deal with Matt?

“Come in.” He says, stepping aside.

Brian hesitates for a moment before walking in, shoulder brushing against a surprising amount of muscle. Brian’s nerves are coming back full force. He’s not used to being nervous. His friends wouldn’t believe this was really him. He’s usually an arrogant prick, would be owning this place right now but something about this man has set him on edge.

He walks into a room at the end of the small corridor, the only room which has any light coming from it. He can’t feel Remy following him so he takes the moment to survey the room.

It’s somewhat messy, the paint is old, peeling - making Brian wonder if this is just a half-way house for the man. The room is filled with things which are completely out of place. A long staff leant against a chair - which doesn’t match anything in the room - a long, brown trench coat hung over the back. Playing cards laid in a half finished game of solitaire on a small table by a battered couch.

Brian quirks an eyebrow when he sees something familiar sat in the centre of the table. The gold band Matt has told his lovely wife that he lost while he was at work. Brian hates himself for not even being surprised that it’s in this strange mans house. He peers around the room again, making sure he’s still alone before snatching the ring up and pocketing it.

“Y’know…” the smooth Cajun voice says, coming through the door. “Y’don’t want t’ try stealin’ from a t’ief.”

Brian turns round to see the man holding his own wallet between slender fingers. He pats himself down, trying to figure out when he lost it, how he lost it.

“How did you…?”

A slow smile spreads across the other mans face as he throws the wallet back to Brian, “Magic.”

Brian narrows his eyes at him. He already doesn’t like this guy. He is what Brian should be right now. He’s cocky, overconfident, so fuckin’ sure of himself. Remy comes up to him now, slipping his hand into the pocket Brian’s dropped Matt’s ring into. He pulls it out and holds it in front of his face.

“Maybe you get dis back later, eh?”

It’s at this moment, Brian finally lets himself get a good look at this man before him. He’s a few inches taller than Brian with those blazing red on black eyes of the stories. They’re strangely enticing. He’s got gorgeous, full lips curved up in a smirk very reminiscent of the one Brian tends to wear in these situations. A strong jaw, covered in rough honey brown stubble. His hair falls at his shoulders in messy waves, looking like he’s already been thoroughly fucked.

“Maybe.” Brian agrees, feeling himself becoming a little more confident now he knows  
what he’s dealing with.

Remy’s smirk turns into a half laugh and he pockets the ring. He passes by Brian and goes to sit on the couch before the table. Brian turns to watch him as the cards are moved across the table.

“How d’you know Shadows?” He asks, not once looking up from his game.

“Shadows?” Brian questions, before realizing Matt’s obviously not about to use his real name in this seedy underworld, “He’s an old friend.”

Remy continues moving the cards, “Seemed t’know a lot about you for an _ami_.”

Brian’s eyebrow quirks again - his mom used to warn him that if the wind changed, it’d stick that way. “It’s not what you think. He’s married.”

“Don’ mean a t’ing, _cher_.” Remy says, looking up to Brian, scarlet eyes sparkling with mischief, “He know too much ‘bout you t’be jus’ a friend.”

Brian shakes his head, “Believe me, I’ve tried. It’s a dead end.”

Remy copies Brian’s earlier look, one eyebrow raised, one dark eye widening, “So he not jus’ a friend.”

Brian almost laughs then, shaking his finger at Remy, “You’re good.”

Remy smiles and leans back on the couch he’s stretched out on. Brian’s eyes rake across his body. He’s long and lean, nicely sculpted, not as large as Brian but still large enough to give him a run for his money. For the first time since he got here, Brian can feel himself becoming anxious to get to the goddamn point.

“Didn’ y’momma ever tell y’it was rude t’stare?” Remy asks.

“Didn’t yours ever tell you it was rude not to offer your guest a drink?” Brian retorts.

He feels better now he’s got this out. A quick witted, sarcastic remark. He smiles to himself.

 _I’m back._ He thinks as Remy rises from his seat. He keeps the smile on his face as Remy approaches him now, getting right up in his face.

“Dat’s not what y’came here for, Brian.”

The younger (older? Brian’s unsure) man seals his lips to Brian’s without a moments hesitation, without even giving his partner a chance to make a witty retort. Not that Brian could even think of one right now. The taste, the scent, the feel of this _creature_ is invading his every sense, frying his synapses, ruining any façade of coolness he’d been able to maintain.

The brown eyed man brings a long fingered hand into the hair of his new lover, fingers gripping tightly to the greasy strands as the others tongue plunders his mouth. Brian could laugh when he tastes the spice on Remy. It’s so fuckin’ ridiculous, so goddamn _cliché_ but it’s so fuckin’ intoxicating.

Brian could kill the little bastard when Remy breaks the kiss and turns to stare at him with a desperate lust in those exotic eyes.

“How ‘bout we take dis upstairs?” He asks, his voice a low, seductive drawl.

Brian can’t even summon his voice, he simply dips his head in agreement. This is obviously satisfactory enough for Remy who slips free of his lover’s grasp and walks from the room, leaving Brian to stare after him.

He almost hasn’t registered the fact his partner’s left the room. He just stands open mouthed for a moment, mouth hanging open as he tries to take in what’s just happened. Less than ten minutes ago, he was coming here, certain he was going to be spending another night dealing with Matt’s damn debts by closing his eyes and focusing on his idiot friend. Now he’s in a position where he’s almost hoping Matt’s going to lose hard again just so he can get his hands back on this man.

Of course as this thought crosses his mind, he realizes he doesn’t have his hands on this man and moves from his spot on the floor, figuring it’s about time he rectify that issue.

He ascends the stairs, noticing the artwork on the walls. Like the rest of the house, none of it really matches and it all looks far too expensive to be here. Brian’s beginning to think the thief crack earlier wasn’t a joke.

Brian pads down the corridor, heading for the room at the end with the stream of light coming from it. He half expects Remy to be there, laid out on the bed in all his glory, stroking himself and just begging Brian to touch him.

“Fuck.” He whispers to himself as the image invades his mind.

He’s almost ashamed of how swiftly he’s reached the open door. He enters the room and can’t deny being a little disappointed when the vivid picture in his mind isn’t the one waiting for him, instead there’s simply a bed - which looks a lot nicer than the rest of the furniture in the little house - sans the beautiful Cajun.

Brian turns on his heel, about to leave the room when the newfound object of his affection appears before his eyes, almost out of nowhere.

“Miss me?”

Brian doesn’t know where it comes from but he snarls at the kid. Fuckin’ _snarls_. Before he can focus on this embarrassing turn of events, he grabs Remy by the dress shirt - purple, of course - and pulls him to him in a fierce kiss, desperate to taste that sweet spicy tang on him again.

For the first time since meeting Remy, Brian is in control. He feels more comfortable in this position, being the one who’s calling the shots.

He walks them back towards the bed, concentrating on staying upright as Remy’s large hands beginning exploring the hard planes of his chest through the thin t-shirt he wears. As the brown eyed man feels his legs hit the bed, he breaks the kiss. Remy smiles at him, a slow, calculating smile and Brian realizes he’s just relinquished his control.

He’s pushed onto the bed, the smile on his lovers face growing as he sees the fear which is no doubt manifesting in his eyes.

Remy joins him on the bed now, strong thighs straddling strong thighs as he sits back on Brian’s legs. Those hands move back to his chest, once more tracing every curve, every muscle through the fabric of the shirt he wears.

“Remy…” Brian whimpers, hating the goddamn tease right now.

Unless he’s the one doing the teasing, he can’t fuckin’ stand it. Brian’s a direct man, he likes things done with the minimal of fucking around. This most definitely counts as fucking around. He just wants to feel those magic hands on his skin.

As the fingers slip under the hem of the shirt, he almost moans. He can’t believe how turned on this man has made him in such a short time. Then again, he can’t remember the last time he was having sex because _he_ wanted to and not just to save Matt’s ass.

The shirt is stripped quickly, thrown to the side. Remy’s hands are back at his chest, retracing every step they’ve already made over fabric, whispering what Brian believes to be compliments in French. It’s too much for Brian. He wants him now, there’s time for exploration later. He grips the other mans shoulders and pulls him to him, rolling them over in the process so he can start cutting the damn crap.

Brian pulls at the shirt covering Remy, not even bothering to do the courtesy of unbuttoning it first, something which causes the other man to snap at him yet not try to stop the actions.

It’s only when Brian feels a sudden somewhat painful shock around his neck, he lets up on his attack. He looks down to see the skull pendant laid on Remy’s tight stomach, no chain in sight.

“The fuck did you just do?” Brian asks.

Remy just smirks at him, taking the skull from his stomach and placing it to one side. Brian watches as the small item glows in a soft pink before exploding right before his eyes.

He glares back at Remy.

“Remy get you a new one.” He says, “Promise.”

Brian figures now isn’t the time to argue, especially considering he has a very attractive man who has the ability to make things explode at will underneath him.

Instead he makes do with another snarl before crashing his lips against the other mans again, his slender fingers making quick work of Remy’s belt and fly. He tugs the pants hard over his hips, bringing the other man’s boxers down with him. The kiss breaks as Remy moves to help remove the clothing as well. Brian moves from his position atop Remy and too late realizes he’s just relinquished control to the other man.

 _Again._

Before Remy’s clothes even hit the floor, he’s back to his original position, stripping the lower garments from Brian. Brian almost hates him as he feels those hands start to explore the flesh beneath them once more, until one of those hands finally makes a move to get something done.

The warm fingers of Remy’s hand slowly drag up Brian’s shaft and Brian finds himself warming to the idea of being teased. Remy’s head dips to Brian’s chest, his lips following much the same pattern as his hands did earlier, moving over the pecs, a swift nip to the nipple, soothed by the hot tongue, all while the hand teases his dick ever so lightly.

Brian’s hands are twisting in the sheets, Remy’s name spilling from his lips in a whisper, begging him for more. He’s unsure as to why Remy’s the one worshiping him in such a manner when he’s supposed to be the prize but as Remy’s full lips pass over the head of his dick, he suddenly doesn’t give a fuck anymore.

The red eyed devil sucks at the head, his tongue moving over the slit before he takes him in further. Brian cranes his head to watch the man and is sure he’s never seen anything so fuckin’ beautiful in all his days.

As Remy lets out a moan around him, Brian’s head falls back to the pillow, calling out his name. One hand moves to grip his own hair, tugging at the strands as Remy continues his actions for a moment longer before drawing back.

Brian glares down at the man, ready to scream at him before remembering the one thing he should have learnt by now.

Remy LeBeau is a bastard.

“I hate you.”

“Remy used to dat reaction.” Remy says, with a low chuckle.

They’re staring each other down, Brian desperate for Remy to do something, Remy testing Brian’s resolve. Brian can feel his lip curling back in the snarl once more, something which causes Remy to chuckle once more before bringing his fingers to his mouth. Brian watches intently as the other mans fingers slip into that plush mouth, retracing the steps of his cock only moments before. His head falls back against the pillow, groaning in sheer frustration.

“Please, Remy…”

“Please?” Remy questions, withdrawing the fingers.

“Just fuck me, please…” Brian groans again, “Just fuck me, I can take it.”

Remy’s glad Brian isn’t looking at him now. He’s certain that the maniacal grin upon his face would likely get him smacked in the face. He spits into his hand, knowing Brian is likely to kill him if he admits to not having anything else within reaching distance. He moves up his body, coating himself thickly with the makeshift lube. It disgusts him if he’s honest but who’s he to deny this beauty what he wants?

He lines up with him, Brian’s hands gripping tightly at his hips, obviously to make sure he’s not about to fuck around anymore. The red eyed man leans to kiss Brian as he moves slowly into him, whispering an apology in both French and English as he invades his lover.

Brian throws his all into the kiss, trying to push away the pain he’s feeling from being taken. One of the hands at Remy’s hips moves to the dirty waves, gripping the hair tightly as he focuses once more on the taste of the beautiful Cajun above him.

It doesn’t take long for the pain to be replaced with the earth shattering pleasure as Remy swiftly drives into Brian’s spot, causing the kiss to be broken, a cry of sheer bliss coming from both Brian and Remy.

Remy’s hand takes hold of Brian’s dick now, moving over it in tandem with his strokes into Brian’s spot. The kiss is all but forgotten, now simply an almost meeting of mouths and soft cries of the others name, along with what Brian hopes are words of elation in soft French.

Brian cries Remy’s name one final time as the wave of bliss hits him, his whole body aflame with almost an almost painful pleasure, his essence leaving him, coating their stomachs. His grip in Remy’s hair tightens momentarily before he falls back to the bed, the Cajun falling atop of him.

The pair lay for a long moment, just regaining their breath before Remy pulls free of Brian, laying beside him. He reaches across to the side table and picks up Matt’s wedding ring, holding it out to Brian.

Brian reaches to take it but the other man pulls it away.

“One condition.” He says.

Brian quirks an eyebrow again, “Go on.”

The _oh so familiar_ smirk crosses Remy’s lips, “Next time, Shadows come wit’ you t‘pay his debt.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to [Snap!](http://myficcywic.livejournal.com/8261.html#cutid1). _He’s wanted to f*** Matt for years, it’s nothing romantic - maybe it was once upon a time - but now he just wants to just own him, just for one night. If he’d known it was going to be as simple as stripping down, he’d have tried this years ago._

Brian hadn’t wanted to leave Remy’s bed after that first night. So he hadn’t. The second and third had been equally difficult, so again, he hadn’t even tried. It was only once Remy had announced he needed to run some errands (something Brian was pretty certain would involve more of the running than the actual errand) that Brian had got up the energy to walk further than the bathroom.

Now standing outside his friends door, fingering the small gold band in his pocket and musing on how strange it feels to wear clothes after three days, he’s beginning to wish he hadn’t bothered.

The rain is beating down hard on his head and Matt’s door is locked. He knows he’s in from the light streaming from the window. Along with the fact he’s already told Brian to fuck off twice.

“Sanders, I swear to God, if you don’t open this fuckin’ door, I’ll pawn this damn ring.” Brian snaps, slamming his hand into the door again.

As Matt opens the door, Brian wonders why he didn’t lead with this to begin with. It would probably have prevented the potential pneumonia.

“What ring?” Matt asks.

“Well my ass is burning but in that good way, so really I’m just fuckin’ peachy. Thanks for asking.” Brian says, pushing past Matt to get into the house.

Matt shuts the door behind him and turns back to Brian, who’s stripping the sodden jacket from his body and - _like the asshole he is_ , Matt reasons - dropping it to the nice clean, cream carpet.

He grits his teeth to stop himself from yelling at his obnoxious friend, “What ring?”

Brian opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by Matt finishing his sentence. He’s not in the mood for crass innuendos.

“…were you threatening to pawn?”  
Brian almost pouts for a moment, knowing he’s lost his chance to disgust Matt for those five minutes. He pulls the gold band from his pocket, holding it up to the light.

“I’m sure Val would be happy to know you found it.” He says.

Matt reaches out to take it but Brian pulls it away from him.

“You used me like a goddamn whore again, Matt.” Brian snaps, conveniently leaving out the fact he’s been with his ‘john’ for the past three days and actually kind of likes the guy.

“I know, I’m sorry…”

Brian shakes his head, “Don’t I fuckin’ know it?”

He puts the ring back in his pocket, away from where Matt can snatch it.

“You are a fuckin’ sorry excuse for a man. You’ve fucked your wife over so many times. You’ve fucked your friends over so much that you only have me left!” Brian starts, the frustration he’s felt over these past few years bubbling to the surface now.

Matt opens his mouth to start disputing this but there’s nothing he can say. He knows it’s the truth, what can he say?

“Shit, if I was smarter, you wouldn’t even have me left.” Brian says, “But I’m a goddamn glutton for punishment and I love your stupid ass too much to ever leave you in the shit.”

He pulls the ring back from his pocket and flips it across to Matt, who snatches it from the air, checking it over to see that it really is his, not just some knock-off Brian stole from the guy he lost him to.

“Brian, I’m sorry and… I will stop using you as collateral.” He says, momentarily wondering how many people in the world have ever had to say that before.

“Damn right you will.” Brian tells him, with a half smile.

Matt slides the ring back onto his finger before looking back across to Brian, who’s shivering now, “You want me to get you some dry clothes?”

Brian nods, “If it wouldn’t kill you, that’d be great.”

Matt nods back to him and heads upstairs, leaving Brian to enter the living room and crash on the nice, clean, light coloured couch. He knows he’s being an asshole but the whole thing amuses him too much for it to really affect him.

He rests his now muddy boots up on the coffee table, figuring the mess on there will at least be easier to get out than it would be on the carpet. And it’d also involve more work for Matt which only serves to add to the cheeky smile on his face.  
Matt returns as Brian is flipping through the channels on the TV. He stands in the doorway, just watching him for a long moment.

“Brian?” He asks.

Brian turns to him, “Hm?”

“Either get those dirty clothes off or get the fuck off my couch.”

He knows as soon as he’s said it that he should probably have phrased it better. As Brian’s shirt comes off, landing with a wet thud on the floor by him, Matt’s rolling his eyes.

“You know what I mean, Haner.” He says, throwing the clothes at Brian as the other man makes a start on pulling off his boots.

“I know but what can I say? I’m a literal person.” Brian says, pulling one of the muddy boots off and dropping it on the clean carpet before making quick work of the other.

“Brian, seriously, Val will…” He stops mid-sentence as he’s watching Brian slipping out of his jeans.

He’s trying to make his mouth work but nothing’s coming of it. He’s watching as the wet denim slips over his friends hips, the soft tan skin being slowly revealed to him. There’s nothing underneath those jeans, just the soft honey tan skin over a sweet, tight ass - he ignores the deep purple mark left on there, especially as it looks new.

He can feel the blood pooling in his groin as he watches him, his body betraying him. He knows Brian’s attractive, he’s not even denying the fact he’s fantasized about him a few times - the guy has a tendency to just get into your damn head at the worst possible times. But there’s a difference between a fantasy and actually staring at your best friends tight, tanned ass.

“I don’t want to be a cliché, Sanders.” Brian says, turning to face him, “But I’ll say it if you really want me to.”

Matt’s not really interested in the cliché Brian’s fighting, he’s more interested in what’s between his legs and the fact it’s standing to attention right about now.

He recovers now, looking up to Brian’s face. There’s one of those horrible smirks on his face, the look which tells everyone he knows he’s had an effect and he’s not going to let it go.

“Matt?”

Matt doesn’t say anything.

Brian moves closer to him, “You were staring.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“You were staring.” Brian insists.

He can hardly believe it was this easy. He’s wanted to fuck Matt for years, it’s nothing romantic - maybe it was once upon a time - but now he just wants to just own him, just for one night. If he’d known it was going to be as simple as stripping down, he’d have tried this years ago.

“You were naked.” Matt tries as a defence.

“And you were staring.” Brian repeats.

There’s a moment of tense silence between them, something which would normally be filled by a joke from one of them. But neither feels like joking now. Brian’s not doing anything until Matt makes a positive move, Matt’s not doing anything because he’s shitting himself and he’s suddenly very conscious of his wedding band.

“Tell me to get dressed and I’ll do it.” Brian says.

Matt just stares at him now, he can almost feel his ring tightening around his finger but he can’t bring himself to say no to the man in front of him.

“I hate you.” Matt says, even as he’s diving into the kiss with Brian.

Brian’s almost disappointed by the lack of spice in Matt’s kiss but fuck, it’s _Matt_ , how can you be disappointed with him kissing you? Brian tears at his friends clothes, getting a little frustrated with being the only one naked.

The shirt comes off easily enough but breaks their kiss. Brian takes this time to finally appreciate Matt’s build up close - without having to hide behind the manly excuse of ‘jealousy’. His hands run over the younger man’s well muscled chest, just feeling the hard planes beneath him for a long moment.

He pulls at Matt’s belt now, pulling it free from the loops before roughly pulling the pants over his hips, bringing his underwear with it. Brian half expects him to have yelped over this, how quickly this shit turned serious. But instead, Matt’s kissing Brian again, walking the other man over to couch he’s already tainted.

He pushes Brian down and, before the brown eyed man can make a smart remark, is all over him once more. Brian still can’t believe how easy this was and is beginning to think maybe Remy is actually some kind of shape shifter.

But this is different. Remy worships Brian, shows every inch of him affection. Matt is just horny, desperate to get off to the forbidden that’s been offered to him. Brian’s not about to complain, it’s good all the same. It’s all he expected and all he wants anyway.

He’s snapped out of his comparisons as Matt rolls his hips against him, their cocks rubbing together. The friction causes Matt to let out the most utterly erotic sound Brian thinks he’s ever likely to hear in his life. A long, low, throaty moan, something he wants to hear again and a-fuckin’-gain. Another roll of the hips, another moan from Matt, causing Brian to release one of his own.

He pulls the other man into a kiss again as he snakes a hand between them, taking hold of Matt’s cock. He strokes him slowly, knowing what he’s about to do is incredibly cruel but not caring either way.

He breaks free from Matt’s lips, kissing along a stubbled jaw, up to an ear, “Let me fuck you.”

Matt shakes his head, “No, no, Brian…”

“Come on, baby.” Brian says, continuing his actions, “I’ll be gentle, baby, it’ll be so good, come on, Matty.”

“Brian, I…”

Brian knows he’s about to refuse again, so takes matters into his own hands. He slides a hand over Matt’s tight ass, a finger running down the cleft. His finger presses against the tight, puckered hole.

“Please, baby.” He says, listening intently as Matt’s protestations turn into shaky whispers, “I can make you feel so good.”

He slips the digit past the tight ring of muscle, searching for that one spot he knows will turn Matt into a fuckin’ wreck.

“Brian…”

“Please?” He asks, tapping at Matt’s spot.

That moan spills forth from Matt again, amplified a thousand times by the damn amazing feeling Brian knows is coursing through him now. He watches the look on his face, the eyes screwing closed, the mouth falling open, the body above him arching. God, he hopes Matt says yes now.

“Matty?” He presses again, nipping behind his ear, “Baby…”

“Fuck, yes.”

Brian grins, moving another finger into Matt, stretching him now. He can barely believe he’s got so damn lucky. He’d expected him to fight this more or just flat out refuse him. But now, watching the look on that gorgeous face as he stretches and prepares him, he can tell Matt’s needed this as much he has.

He pulls his fingers free from Matt now and manoeuvres them around, Matt leaning against the arm of the sofa, Brian above him. As much as he wants to see Matt riding his cock, he’s pretty sure that would be pushing it a little. He spits into his hand, pretty sure there’s not likely to be any lube conveniently placed in the sofa cushions for him to use. He’s sure as hell not leaving this spot, Matt’s submissive to him, he doesn’t know how long this is likely to last. Besides, the man is currently laid before him, eyes half closed in pleasure as he strokes himself leisurely. How the hell is anyone supposed to leave an image like that?

“God, you’re fuckin’ hot.” Brian says, moving to line up with him.

Matt opens his eyes to look at Brian, smirking now, “I’d noticed.”

Brian laughs a little before pushing into his friend, causing the smirk to drop from Matt’s face.

“Fuck…”

Brian’s momentarily satisfied by the fact he’s beaten Matt at his own game before his own pleasure comes over him. The other man is so hot, so tight, so fuckin’ amazing.

He grips Matt’s sides as he pulls out and slowly moves back in.

It’s fuckin’ killing Matt, feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside. Where’s that pleasure he felt earlier? Did he imagine it? Did he…

His thoughts are shattered by the bone-melting pleasure hitting him again. He grips Brian’s back, head falling against his shoulder, teeth marking his neck, nails digging into the tan skin.

He cries out against the skin, as he pumps his own shaft harder with the free hand, the pain all but forgotten now as Brian continues his assault on that sweet spot inside him.

Long minutes pass, the only sound in the house coming from their bodies and the sweet moans coming from each others lips. Neither can hear the sound of the other person entering the midst. They don’t see the body stood in the doorway, watching everything. They’re too wrapped up in one another.

As the pair reach their climax, falling over the edge with loud cries of the others name, the third body in the room decides to make his presence known.

“Cheatin’ on Remy already, _cher_?”

Brian’s head snaps up, turning to look at the intruder, “Remy… I…”

Remy holds a hand up for silence and just pushes himself up from the doorway he’s leaning on, shrugging off the long, brown trench coat he wears. He lays it across the chair by him and turns his attention back to the two shocked, nervous looking men on the couch.

“Y‘know,” He starts, a slow smirk coming across his face, “It’s not a party wit’ only two people.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final part to the Snap! Trilogy. _Remy isn’t about to take this. He came here to have some fun with Shadows. He hadn’t really planned it to involve ‘adult situations’ but if that’s the way it’s going to be, who is he to complain?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first threesome.

“Remy?” Brian asks, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He doesn’t move from his position. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He’s buried deep in his best friend while his new fuck buddy is stood across the other side of the room with that damn look on his face. (Brian’s beginning to realize why people hate him for making the same look). There’s not exactly a handbook for this.

“Well, when Remy got home, Brian wasn’ dere.” Remy announces, as he slowly approaches the boys, “An’ Remy don’ t’ink Shadows paid his debt yet.”

 _Oh God_ , Brian thinks, as Remy approaches him, seemingly not phased by the position he and Matt are in, _he’s going to blow me up_.

Remy leans down to his ear, “So I don’ t’ink you should o’ left.”

Brian nearly jumps when he feels Remy’s hand at his shoulder, smoothing across his muscled arm, “I just came to return his ring.”

Remy surveys the very naked Matt now, the fact his legs are wrapped around Brian’s back, his stomach glistening with sweat and his own juices.

“Strong believer in de sanctity o’ marriage, eh?” Remy notes.

Matt roughly shoves Brian from him now, incredibly aware of what’s just happened to him, the fact he’s fucked… no _been_ fucked by his best friend, that a poker buddy happens to be in his house and that the carpet is covered in fuckin’ mud from Brian’s boots.

He grabs the pants he’d brought for Brian off the floor and pulls them on quickly. He grabs Brian’s shoulder, pulling him from the couch and pushing him towards Remy. He grabs the wet clothes from the floor and thrusts them at him.

“You need to go. Both of you.”

“Oh come on, Matt, Remy’s fuckin’ with you.” Brian insists, only pulling the wet pants back on because arguing naked is ridiculous.

“No, I t’ink dat was you.” Remy adds, unhelpfully.

Brian glares across at Remy, “You’re not helping.”

“Was I supposed t’be?”

Brian rolls his eyes and looks back to Matt, “Come on, Matt…”

“Get out, Brian.” The other man snaps, pulling the shirt on, “Both of you, just fuck off.”

Brian walks forward, ready to start trying to talk Matt down before Remy’s hand rests on his chest, keeping him there before walking forward himself, approaching Matt.

“Shadows,” Remy starts, causing the shaven headed man to jump. He hadn’t realized how quickly Remy had reached him, had been too busy trying to rearrange furniture to hide Brian’s muddy boot prints.

“Y’need t’relax, _homme_.” Remy says, reaching out to stroke Matt’s back.

Matt wants to scream at him, wants to tell him to go fuck himself, that the deal’s off, he can take the house, he can take everything he has. It’s not like he’ll have any of it left when his wife finds out what’s happened. But he finds the words caught in his throat.

“A man has needs, Shadows.” Remy points out, “An’ Brian fill those needs, _non_?”

He doesn’t know if it’s the sweet lilt of the voice, the contact or the fact this man seems to always get his own way, but Matt can feel himself becoming more agreeable. He stands and peers to Brian, “I’m sorry, man.”

Brian waves it off, his mind too occupied with ‘filling Matt’s _needs_ ’ again. He blames the Cajun, damn man oozes sex. Seeing his hands touching Matt, even in this innocent way is turning Brian into the eternally horny teenager he still is at heart.

So Remy’s next words come as both a shock and the most wonderful idea _ever_.

“Maybe you let Remy help?” He offers, a slow, seductive smile coming across that mouth Brian had been fucking only hours before.

The brown eyed man in the room almost moans aloud at Remy’s suggestion, whereas the hazel eyed one just stares on in shock. Brian’s not sure what to make of this look. He’s narrowed it down to murderous rage, trapped wind or desperate lust. Naturally, he’s hoping for the latter.

Remy moves behind Matt, rubbing at his broad shoulders. They’re almost the same height but Matt is much larger in frame, making him almost dwarf the other man. Brian watches as Matt’s eyes fall closed, as Remy’s long fingers dig into the hard muscle of Matt’s shoulders.

Remy’s lips move to rest at Matt’s ear, whispering something to him that Brian can’t quite hear. His mind makes it filthy, something utterly depraved that he knows Matt - at least - would be disgusted by. He’s trying to resist the burning urge to rub himself through his pants as he watches this innocent yet erotic scene before him.

There’s a small moan coming from Matt now as Remy’s hands move against his shoulders, teasing out the knots. Remy’s voice is still echoing in his ear, the sweet French words, the disgusting English ones that he knows shouldn’t do to him what they have.

Matt peers across to Brian. He looks so fuckin’ turned on by this. His tongue clamped between his teeth, his eyes nearly black, a hand is lazily passing over the bulge in the wet jeans he wears.

Remy’s head rests on Matt’s shoulder, his arms wrapping around his stomach, fingers tracing shapes over the winged skull across his stomach. His red eyes lock with Brian’s brown ones, “ _Venez_.”

Brian’s unsure as to what he means but the tone of his voice, the way he’s treating Matt, he can only assume Remy’s asking him to join him. He approaches the couple, unsure as to whether he’s just fallen asleep on Matt or whether this really is happening to him.

Remy reaches a hand across to Brian, pulling him into a brief kiss across Matt’s shoulder.

“Y’need t’calm him down, _cher_ ” Remy whispers, “Don’ t’ink I can do it.”

Brian looks to Matt, he looks pretty damn relaxed now, probably due to the way Remy’s holding him, the way his hands are moving over the tight muscles. But he’s not about to dispute his lover’s instructions. Remy draws back from Matt, leaving him and Brian stood before one another.

“Matt, I…” Brian starts again before he’s cut off by Matt’s hand wrapping around his back and pulling him into a kiss.

He’s shocked and surprised and so fuckin’ turned on, it’s almost hurts as Matt’s kiss turns aggressive. There’s not so much a kiss as a fight going on, Matt’s nipping, he’s full out biting, he’s screaming at Brian without using any kind of words and Brian couldn’t be happier with it.

Large hands are resting at the damp material covering his ass, squeezing at almost random intervals. Both men can feel the Cajun’s blazing eyes watching them but are powerless to attend to him, both lost in the others kiss.

Of course, Remy isn’t about to take this. He came here to have some fun with Shadows. He hadn’t really planned it to involve ‘adult situations’ but if that’s the way it’s going to be, who is he to complain?

He comes up behind Matt now, wanting to explore the unfamiliar body. His hands slip the shirt from Matt’s shoulders even as the other continues kissing his friend. The shirt falls to the floor but Remy’s hands return to the smooth, coloured skin, tracing down the tattoos littering large arms.

They’re not like Brian’s, they’re more random, _more meaningful_ , Remy thinks. The different pictures symbolizing the different sides to Matt, the different parts of the beast. He could spend a lifetime trying to figure out what the different pictures stand for but right now is just content to feel them under his lips, curious as to whether the different colours are subtly different flavours.

Matt can feel the other hands, the other mouth on him. The kiss with Brian falling apart as the nimble fingers and soft mouth move over him. As Remy reaches his shoulder once more, he cranes his neck, to taste the other man in a kiss. The heat of him is almost overwhelming, the sweet spicy essence he could taste on Brian so much stronger first hand.

Brian watches as his lover and his best friend kiss awkwardly. His hand is ghosting over his dick as he watches them, he wants to do more. He wants _them_ to do more. He moves behind Remy now, hands moving around the front to pull the shirt from his lovers body. He breaks the kiss Matt and Remy are half caught in with the shirt.

Matt turns to face Remy properly now, eyes raking across the tight, slightly muscled torso he’s been presented with. His large hands move across the body before resting at the hem of the torn jeans Remy wears. He’s not used to seeing him looking so casual, every time he’s played him, there’s been almost a uniform, the purple shirt, the velvet waistcoat, the pressed trousers. He figures now it’s a way to try and set himself apart from the other gamblers in those dives, as if the eyes and his incredible skills don’t do that enough.

Somewhere between Matt’s thoughts of Remy’s usual attire and his own clothes hitting the floor, the three men have found their way to the spare bedroom. Matt’s grateful they’ve not ended up in the marital bedroom, no matter how much he wants this - and God, he wants this - he couldn’t bring himself to desecrate the bed he shares with his wife. She’d know, she always knows. As Remy’s hand finds it’s way to his hard dick, he suddenly doesn’t care that she’s going to know. Shit, he’s willing to shout it from the _rooftops_.

He watches as Brian and Remy start kissing again. He can’t deny how fuckin’ hot they are together. They’re perfectly matched, little more so than Matt and Brian. Matt’s ignoring the small pang of jealousy he feels thinking about this, focusing on how much he wants these damn men in his bed, worshipping him and now.

He walks across to Remy, pulling him away from Brian. Brian’s mouth’s open, obviously about to dispute Matt’s actions before the bigger man starts moving this forward, a swift kiss being pressed to Brian’s lips before he begins kissing over his chest.

Remy knows what’s going on here. Fucking Brian has opened some floodgate of feelings in Matt and now he’s struggling with sharing something he didn’t realize he wanted in the first place. He’s not about to give Brian up for anyone though, he’s having too much fun with this guy. If it’s muscles, brown eyes and a guy who always has some smart comment that Matt wants, he’s got the _perfect_ substitute in mind.

Matt’s face to dick with Brian now, he’s about to do something he’s never thought about doing in his whole life. He feels a hand at the back of his neck, a low whispered ‘do it’ coming from Remy.

Brian looks down as Matt’s mouth moves over his cock, taking him into the wet, velvet heat. His eyes fall closed as Matt’s tongue moves along the shaft, pressing against the vein, a soft moan drifting from his lips. Remy watches the scene unfolding before him. God, it’s beautiful.

He moves behind Brian now, wanting to remind the other man how good he is as well. He presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck, before moving his lips over his broad shoulders, the sweet tanned skin tasting like heaven. He sucks two fingers into his mouth as his hand crosses over to Brian’s stomach, softly caressing the flat, smooth skin.

Brian’s not blasphemous - unless in a fit of passion because ‘oh gosh’ is just fuckin’ ridiculous - but he’s pretty sure no heaven God has planned can match up to this. Matt’s cock-sucking mouth is being put to the use it was made for, Remy’s lips are everywhere his hands aren’t. He can feel his fingers probing at his entrance now, slipping past the tight ring of muscle slower than he’d like. He knows it’s out of courtesy, he and Remy have barely stopped these past three days but goddamnit, now isn’t the time for courtesies.

“Rem… please.” Brian whimpers and the fingers move in further.

Matt thinks he hates Remy now. The fact he’s got his mouth around Brian’s cock and Remy’s name is the one being called. He could kill him. He ups the ante now, his hand coming to Brian’s balls, a light tug, a squeeze, everything Val does that drives him insane being transferred to this guy.

“God, Matt… fuck…”

 _Take that, Gumbo._

Remy almost laughs as he realizes what Matt’s doing. He scissors his fingers in Brian, expertly hitting that one spot which drives his lover wild, his name coming louder than Matt’s did. Brian’s knees buckle a little but Remy’s arm around him holds him up. There’s a smug smile on Remy’s face now. He’s winning.

 _Brian doesn’t even realize we’re competing_ , Matt thinks. He’s glad of this, doesn’t think he could deal with the humiliation. Or with Brian’s smugness over the fact. He’d be fuckin’ unbearable.

Matt has no other tricks now, hates the fact he has to deal with losing but figures he’s still getting something out of this.

Brian’s hands press at Matt’s shoulders, trying to push him free, “Matt, please… stop…”

Matt pulls back instantly, worried he’s done something wrong, “Sorry, I…”

Brian shakes his head, “Want you inside me.”

Matt’s not sure he’s heard him right to begin with. The Cajun’s the one who’s got him moaning like a fuckin’ porn star and he wants Matt to fuck him. He doesn’t need asking twice.

He rises to his feet, smirking at Remy, “Sorry, _mon ami_.”

“Don’ be.” Remy says, matching his look, “Remy warmed him up f’y’.”

Matt’s smile dies on it’s feet for a moment before he turns his head to see Brian spread out for him, on all fours upon the bed, looking back at him. Matt makes a small smug noise at Remy before moving to where Brian is. His hands rest at Brian’s thighs, stroking the skin, getting used to the feel of him. He reaches into the drawer by the bed, this room generally being used for his own masturbatory purposes, it actually has supplies in. He plucks the small tube of lube from the drawer, ready to coat himself.

Remy watches this now, almost wishing he was again in Matt’s position. He walks round the bed, moving to kneel in front of Brian, his hand slipping into his hair as he smiles down at him.

No words are exchanged, Remy knows that Brian knows what he wants. He guides his mouth to his dick. As Brian takes him in, Matt lines up behind him. He moves in in one swift movement as Brian swallows Remy’s dick.

The two men with their mouths free let out a string of curses, the French and English entwining in some twisted mess of words which sounds utterly beautiful to Brian’s ears. He lets out a cry of his own around Remy’s dick, which sends more of that filthy French into the air.

Matt’s watching Remy now, watching the goddamn sinfully beautiful look on his face as Brian swallows around him. He can see what the other man sees in him. He’s fuckin’ _gorgeous_. Matt can’t keep his eyes from that plush mouth, moving in a stream of words he doesn’t even understand. He remembers how he tasted, the sweet yet spicy taste which seems to cover everything to Cajun does. He needs that taste again, reaches out a hand, pulling the other man to him in a sloppy kiss, never ending his movements within Brian.

Moments pass and Remy comes first, crying Brian’s name along with something undoubtedly filthy in that sweet Cajun French which Brian’s becoming more goddamn enamoured with as the time goes on. He swallows him down as best he can while still wanting to scream out the other man’s name. He pulls back from Remy, allowing to Cajun to fall back against the pillows.

Brian’s close now, was close before they even fuckin’ began. He feels Matt hand resting back at his hip, the other hand moving to take his cock in his hand. It’s large and rough and feels like fuckin’ heaven.

“Fuck, Matty…”

His name being called in such a fashion is all it takes for the final man, he’s never heard his own name sounding so goddamn good before. Then again, this is coming from the man who makes _Elwin_ sexy, that’s got to be some kind of gift. He stills inside Brian, his grip on the other man’s hip tightening, the only real sign that’s hit his release, Remy notes.

Remy’s laid out on the bed, watching the other men as they reach their release. They look so damn good together, he almost thinks he should step aside.

 _Almost_.

He watches again as Brian gets up from the bed now, heading into the small en suite bathroom to clean himself up. Matt simply lays out on the bed by Remy, looking over at him with a smile.

“Does this mean we’re even now?”

Another slow smile comes across Remy’s face, “For now.”

He holds out a hand for them to shake on the deal, which the other takes.

For once, Matt’s thanking God that he’s so bad at poker…


End file.
